


Look

by Sarie_Fairy



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Porn, Sex, Smut, X-Files Porn Battle: Fucksgiving 2020 Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy
Summary: This was written from a prompt by Anon for Fucksgiving 2020.37.While getting coffee at work, they overhear others talking about Scully being unattractive, etc. After work when they enter his apartment, Mulder whispers in Scully's ear: "I'm going to fuck you in front of the mirror; I want you to see how beautiful you look when you're spreading your legs for me."
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116





	Look

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you lovelies, Annie and Dina, for your fab beta. 😘

The ‘ _they are definitely fucking_ ,’ hallway murmurs, or positively open discussions in ladies’ bathrooms—Scully holed up in a stall—were not uncommon. They were both used to it. Used to ignoring it. 

More challenging for Scully to disregard were the ‘ _what does he see in her_ — _she is so stuck up_ or _unattractive_ ,’ hurtful comments from women she hoped had no idea that she was only feet away. Feeling ugly and foolish, she would chew on her lip, an effort bite back her emotions. Thoughts that Mulder could think of her the way she thought of him would dissipate along with the sounds of laughter and clicking heels out the door. 

So, what came next was a first for Mulder.

Hidden behind a partition in the FBI cafeteria, adding the necessary accompaniments to their coffees, they overheard—

“Oh come on, Spooky’s been tapping that for years. Have you seen them together?” 

Scully spilled most of the sugar from its packet beside her piping hot coffee, quickly swiping it into her hand. 

“I can only imagine,” the voice continued, “what we’d find in that dungeon of their’s if we got a black light down there,” he finished, breaking off into raucous laughter. 

Mulder’s turn to spill, overfilling his styrofoam cup with cream.

“Really?” a woman chimed-in in a doubtful voice. 

“Oh yeah, it’s common knowledge,” he said finally, his voice trailing away.

Scully could feel Mulder’s eyes on her, and she chanced a glance up at him, his face arranged with a tight-lipped smile and a ‘what are you gonna do?’ expression. He added a shrug.

“I don’t believe it,” came a different woman’s voice. “There is no way he’d have sex with _her_. She’s sooo uptight.”

“I know!” the first woman sounded back in. “I don’t understand where those rumours started. I’m mean, he’s so hot, and she’s just … _urgh_ … I don’t know, short and unsexy.”

They both laughed then, heartily, their sniggers following them as they walked away. 

Scully turned the other way, completed coffee in hand, hastening through the cafeteria doors, and headed down the corridor.

“Scully, wait—” Mulder implored, taking long strides to catch up, fumbling to click on the lid of his cup, as he called after her. 

She kept her pace, and he almost leapt at her, placing a large palm on her shoulder, slowing her as they reached the elevator.

“What?” she questioned up at him. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” she dismissed and stepped between the metal doors as they slid open in front of her. He followed her in, standing too close, as she spun, giving him the look that would always accompany those words—an expression which communicated the exact opposite. 

“Scully,” he soothed, and she lost his gaze, hit the button for the basement and watched the declining numbers intently, sipping her drink while he hovered beside her. 

“Okay,” he said decidedly, after their silent descent. The doors opened and he grabbed her free hand, began pulling her with him out of the elevator and down the narrow basement hallway.

“Mulder,” she protested, as she was reluctantly being dragged along. “What are you doing?”

He hauled her into the women’s bathroom, took her drink and placed it along with his own on a small shelf over the hand dryer. Maneuvering her in front of the mirror, he stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, addressing her reflection and instructing her to “look. What do you see?”

Scully furrowed her brow and lifted her head; begrudgingly did as she was told, tears evident at her lash line.

“Oh, Scully. Please don’t cry. You … you, Scully, are more than either of those stupid women put together, you hear me?”

“Mulder,” came her weak assertion, as she found him in the mirror.

“No, look at you,” he said, stepping up, curving himself over her and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She looked at herself, his fingers at her temple as he continued, “you are intelligent and attractive and—”

Shaking her head, she dropped her chin to her chest, “Mulder drop it … let’s get back to work okay?” 

Palm cupping her jaw, chin gently scissored between his middle and fore fingers, he lifted her face and she was captured in his gaze. Held under his all too familiar stare, where there was nowhere to hide—except to look away. Only this time she didn’t. She looked and let him look. Lip quivering almost indiscernibly, she sniffed—attempted to quell her tears. Mulder had profiled her a thousand times over in those stolen moments, she knew it. Where everything would vanish, and she would find herself sinking down, losing herself to the intensity of his unrelenting hazel eyes. The two of them, having a conversation without words before she would tear her eyes away, settle them somewhere else in the room.

He swiped her cheek tenderly with the pad of his thumb. Wrapping her up, he caught her shoulders under his forearms and placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.

“You have the most beautiful mind I have ever known.” 

She watched as his gaze raked over her features. 

“And those lips,” he continued, and she licked at them self-consciously. Mulder groaning behind her, “oh fuck, it drives me wild when you do that.”

“What?” she said innocently.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he replied, shaking his head. She furrowed her brow. “Okay, I know we work together, and I don’t mean to make you in any way uncomfortable, but ... sometimes I find it hard to concentrate around you _._ ”

She couldn’t suppress her grin. “What?”

He pushed out his lips and nodded. “It’s true. Scully, those women are jealous of you,” he cooed as he playfully nudged the side of her head with his own, leaving it there.

“Mulder, come on. You don’t have to say that, I’m okay,” she chastised weakly. “I hear that all the time, in washrooms, that stuff. It’s like water off a duck’s back—usually,” she hesitated, allowing her head to bump back into his. “I guess I was embarrassed that you heard them too, that’s all.”

“Hey Scully, listen to me. I’m not just saying it,” he told her fiercely as he stood taller, hulking over her. “It’s something about the way you move. How you hold yourself,” he began, his crotch pressing against her lower back. “Your intelligence, your... your ...” he fumbled over his words. “—your integrity, your ... God, it’s everything! Everything about you. Your face. Even your clothes!” he babbled.

“My clothes?” she questioned doubtfully.

“Yeah, well, it’s more that I have to use my imagination to picture what’s under there and…” he stopped. Swallowed his bottom lip. 

“You imagine me naked, Mulder?” she smirked, pushing back, curving herself into his hips.

It was his turn to look abashed. “Ah ... well, yes … yes, I do,” he ventured slowly, looking somewhat sheepish.

“It’s okay,” she replied, adding, “I don’t mind,” surprising even herself with her brazen, though entirely truthful, statement. 

Continuing her bold streak, she leant back onto him, his arms now back on her shoulders, pulling her close. “So, what do you imagine?” she queried, licking along the inside of her top lip, staring up through her lashes.

“Hmm,” he groaned, “um, well, sometimes I might catch a glimpse of your bra,” he explained, studying her intently. “And so, I'll think about what that fabric might look like over your…. um,” he paused and then she nodded, giving him permission to continue, “your ... breasts,” he breathed.

“Mm-hmm,” she encouraged as he bumped into her, purposefully, his erection evident as he looked over her shoulder, pointedly. Down her top.

Scully’s breath shallowed, quickened. She bit her lip and lifted her hands, looking at him in the mirror as she audaciously un-popped her top button, opening her blouse for him to see. Then another, her cleavage spilling from the cups on her heaving breath.

“Jesus, Scully.” 

Her eyes were wide, and she wondered if he might hear the sound of her beating heart. Hear how eager she was for him to replace his gaze with his hands. “You are sexy as hell.”

“No, I’m not,” she scoffed, embarrassed.

“Yeah, you are. Are you kidding me?” 

“Mulder—” she protested, expelling the air from her lungs.

“Hey,” he said, touching her cheek and she lifted her head. “Let me show you,” he implored.

Eyes glistening, she licked her bottom lip and swallowed. “Show me? What do you mean?” she questioned.

“Watch,” he said, indicating the mirror with a jut of his chin. Doing as instructed she looked as he slowly lowered his head and then kissed her. Pressed his pretty mouth to the juncture of her shoulder and her neck. His hot lips on her skin, soft tongue lap at her, tracing her pulse, teeth nibbling. Taking herself in, she saw her features relax, jaw beginning to slacken. 

Mulder’s face had changed too. Eyes hooded, focus sharp; like she was his prey, trapped, caught in his inescapable stare. For all that she knew of him, she hadn’t seen him look at her that way before. A mix of desire and pleasure, intense, but vulnerable. He was fucking gorgeous, and she wanted to lick the sweat gathering at his brow. 

She wanted him to rip her top open.

To grab her breasts. 

To tear her clothes off and pinch her nipples.

To pump into her until her head hit the mirror.

To leave finger marks in her flesh.

To fill her up, ravage every inch of her, fuck her into next week. To own her, devour her, undo her.

Most of all, though, she had an overwhelming desire to … kiss him.

So, when he lifted from her neck, she did—head to the side—stole a kiss. Her lips tentatively connecting with his; warm and sweet. But it lingered, beyond sweet; his mouth opening, tongue finding the inside of her top lip, trailing the path hers usually took. Momentarily stupefied, his lips slid across hers, tongue pushing deep inside, his hand cradling the back of her head. Electricity burst low inside, threatening to unravel her on the spot, from his mere kiss. They broke apart and stared at one another, sharing expressions of excitement and surprise and titillation, brows halfway up their foreheads. Their pupils darting from eye to eye, mouths opening, then closing with no sound coming out, everything and nothing to say.

Turning to the mirror, their gazes lost only to be caught again in their reflections.

“God Scully, I want you,” he panted, slowly blinking. “I want _this,_ ” his eyes telling her precisely what he meant.

She replied with a nod, biting her at her lips, looking at his; glistening with her saliva.

“Everyone thinks we’re doing it anyway,” he grinned.

“That they do,” she agreed and then he kissed her again. And this time she kissed him too, mouth opened, her tongue stroking his, twisting, entwining—lips crushed together. They kissed and kissed, her fingers twisted in his hair, Mulder’s hand caressing a breast, hips pulsing into her arse.

“Now,” Mulder finally spoke, voice amorous, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror; I want you to see how beautiful you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”

“What? Oh, Jesus,” she said, mouth agape, though she couldn’t summon any irritation. She knew he was not saying it for provocation. He was serious. And she had never been more aroused. The juxtaposition of Mulder, so tender and sweet, with what just came out of his lips, was apparently the exact right combination of words to render her knees incapable of working. But he was right there, caught her around the middle, pulling her onto him, back on his steel erection through layers of clothing.

“You want that,” he coaxed, his fingertips slipping over her shoulders, down.

“Ah-ha,” was all that she could manage.

He wasted no time, hiking up her skirt, reaching and grabbing her stockings and tearing them down to her knees, followed by her underwear. She gasped, stepped her legs as far apart as the nylon stretched between them would allow. Then she held herself up – a hand on either side of the sink – looking, staring him down. Daring him to continue.

Arms agitating—eyes trained on her face, piercing her—his zip projected its undoing into the small echoey room, and she heard the sound of fabric pooling to the floor and then…

…at first, he traced her seam, ran the head of his cock up and down through her slick.

“Watch your face, Scully,” he instructed as he pushed himself into her, inch by delicious inch, splitting her. She focused on her own reflection, jaw unhinging wider with every exquisite fraction he invaded her body.

“Oh, God,” and she was full, her cunt stretched to his girth, expanding still as he grew and throbbed within her. 

And then he moved. Began to pump himself in and out of her, slow and steady; his eyes never leaving hers.

Focusing, she blinked at him languidly, eyes dark with lust and he responded, held her tight, gripping her hips. Four fingers and a thumb of each hand pressing into her flesh, heavenly. He stared at her with that ravenous expression as he sped up, pumping more vigorously.

It had not ever felt like that—someone’s hands on her body. And she knew it was because they were _his_ hands. And they were moving over her. Touching her. Grabbing at her. His palm at her lower back, running down and cupping her arse, his other hand tracing the gentle curve of her waist, up the side of her breast, then cupping her over her clothes, his thumb finding her nipple, pebbled beneath. 

Scully spread her legs further—stretching the thin material between her knees—increased her sacral curve, taking him deeper, spasming around him erratically. 

“Look at your face, Dana. Look,” he panted, “look.”

And she did. Looked. Took in the image before her. Her flaming hair shocking forward with each thrust, bedroom eyes, lips apart, tongue teasing the corner of her mouth. The woman looking at her through the looking glass was unbridled, uninhibited and free. She looked … beautiful. She looked sexy. She looked fucking amazing.

A fire burned within, confidence and arousal churning, burning. She swapped her focus for Mulder, who was looking pleased with himself. 

“Harder,” she prompted.

“Oh, fuck,” he said and then he did, pumped and bumped and kissing her as he did it, their lips meeting in a frenzy, and it was no longer about Mulder proving anything to Scully. It was desperate and passionate. It was too many moments of sexual tension, for too many years. It was want and desire. It was love manifested. 

Tearing his mouth from hers, pulling out of her, he reached down and ripped her nylons and underwear off, completely, spinning her and lifting her on the counter by the sink. Pushing his way between her knees, he splaying her, kissing her again. 

She felt a shift, the control and command Mulder had on the situation, his demonstration dissipating, replaced with furious desperation. His tongue probing her mouth, his cock shoved into her hot pussy, hands fumbling at her buttons.

“Rip it,” Scully ordered, lips still at his mouth. Without missing a beat he did, tore open her top, buttons ricocheting off the tiles, both of them moaning. 

“Jesus, Scully,” he panted, hips still wildly pumping. Pulling the cup of her bra down, her breast exposed momentarily before it was in his mouth and he was biting down on her nipple, lapping at her flesh. 

Scully’s head fell back, thumped on the mirror as she wrapped her calves around his waist, heels into the bare flesh of his arse, drawing him in with every pulse of his enormous cock. She had never felt so aroused, so full, so desired. 

He lifted off her chest, kissed over her breast, up her neck, pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Scully,” he breathed, stroking an errant hair from her forehead.

Whatever pretence what they were doing began as, whatever overwhelming physical erotic sensations they were overcome with, had shifted and something else had taken over with the way Mulder was looking at her as he held on and slid in and out of her body, his fingers teasing between her legs.

“Mulder?” she said, a question, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking.

“Yes,” he answered. And it was the right answer. Yes. Just _yes_. 

His gaze swept over her, and she felt it like the ghost of his fingertips across her fevered skin. Settling his eyes on her chest, he bared her other breast, mouth descending—warm and wet, tongue lapping. 

He was playing her, ramming into her on a downbeat, his thumb swiping over her clit on an upstroke, tongue swirling – teeth pulling on her nipple in time. A crescendo building, spinning wilding within, gaining momentum like a freight train on a downhill run, brakes failing. No stopping or turning back. Scully seized at him with her fingers, her body. Desperately drawing him in, holding him, trapping him in the concoction of her desire and want and … love.

He hauled himself up, dragging her onto him, pulling behind her knees, further skewering her, thumb maddingly perfect at her clit. Somehow keeping her exquisitely on pause. Holding her on the precipice; a knife’s edge of overwhelming waves of pleasure, that Scully knew could topple into agonisingly erotic pain. She was aching for release, to leap through the hoop of burning rapture, but at the same time consumed with a longing to stay with Mulder, in the ladies’ bathroom, in the basement of the Hoover building, for all of time. In short, she was in heaven.

They kissed as they came. Messy and frenzied. Jaw wide, her tongue being sucked like a popsicle, clit twisted and viced between his fingertips and her pubic bone, legs split open, his hard cock ramming into her. Over and over again. All thought ceased; synapses delivering one message—ecstasy, ecstasy, ecstasy—all over her body. Flesh in a fever, her pussy clamping wildly, nipples tight and hard under his palm. He was devouring her, thrusting over and again until he spilled up into her, a groan deep within escaping into her mouth and she followed him down. Her muscles jello, body violently shuddering. 

“Oh God, oh Mulder”, dancing around them, melting into her boneless body. Eyes closing, she went limp; caught and cradled by him, embraced and held in his arms, their lips still loosely connected, absorbing one another’s euphoria. 

...

They walked to their respective cars together, late that Friday afternoon—after a day in the office, full of bashful glances and purposeful brushes of their bodies against the other. 

Scully almost reached for his hand when the sound of voices from two unseen men resounded off the concrete walls.

“Did you see Mrs Spooky today?” came the first.

“No, why?” the other.

“Saw her in the cafeteria, getting lunch. Man, she was looking hotter than usual. Spooky is one lucky bastard.”

Scully had popped up after their bathroom escapades—dressed in spare clothing kept in the office for emergencies—to buy them both a much-needed sandwich. Hair a little mussed, lips a little bee-stung, eyes dreamy, looking satiated.

Mulder gave her an ‘I told you so’ glance and mouthed _“see_ ”. Scully tried but failed to bite the smile from her face, as they walked the rest of the way with purposeful silent footfalls.

“No way,” came the second voice again. “No way she’d go there. Guy’s such a loser—”

The other man began to respond when their voices disappeared with the closing of the elevator doors.

Scully looked up at Mulder, his bottom lip out, mock hurt across his face. 

Taking a cursory glance around the parking garage, Scully then stepped up close, abdomen to abdomen, pushing him back against her car.

“Don’t listen to them Mulder,” she smiled, on tippy toes, faces close. “Anyone who can give a woman the kind of orgasm you gave me today,” she told him, raising a brow, “is no loser.” 

He smirked down at her, a smug look on his face.

“What?”

“Scully,” he said, curling the hair at the temple, “that was nothin’. I’m usually good for two or three in a row,” he boasted.

“Really?” she said slowly, teasing out the word.

“Mh-hmm,” he sounded matter-of-factly.

“Well _Spooky_ , I’m a woman of science. Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

“Oh, it will involve my mouth. And yes, I very much do.” He hovered his lips over hers. “Lemme go home and shower. I’ll be over in an hour.”

Grinning widely, she slapped his arse as he made a move to his car. 

Just as she was sliding into the driver’s side, Mulder added. “And Sexy, dust off your handcuffs, okay.”


End file.
